


Beyond Touched

by Salmon_Pink



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Community: daredevilkink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:03:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt's at his limit and Foggy hasn't even touched him. Not that Foggy plans on touching him<i> at all</i>, not with all those others senses driving Matt wild.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond Touched

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for _Daredevil_. Set after Season One. BDSM. Bondage. Written for [Daredevil Kink](https://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org), [prompt](https://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/725.html?thread=469#cmt469) "Matt/Foggy, testing the limits of Matt's enhanced sensory perception. Bonus points for bondage and crying".

Matt’s fingers keep twitching, curling up against his palms, like he wants to be holding something, like he _needs_ it. He’d be holding the headboard if he could, Foggy’s sure, but Matt can’t with his hands tied like that, suspended between each of the headboard’s rungs, carefully measured out rope reaching out from either side of his wrists meaning he doesn’t have enough give to touch the wood.

Matt’s the one who’d thought of that, talking Foggy through tying each of the knots. Because Matt has clearly thought about this a _lot_ , planned it carefully, made it inescapable for himself.

Hands held over his head, legs spread wide by ropes at his ankles. So all he can do is lie there. 

All he can do is _take_ it.

As for Foggy, he’s not just along for the ride. Anything but.

See, Matt may have been the one who asked for this, he may have been the one figuring out the logistics of making himself helpless, because maybe Foggy might have been a little soft there without guidance. Maybe Foggy might have given Matt a little too much leeway with the rope without those careful instructions. Can’t be blamed, he’s not exactly done anything like this before and, hey, Matt’s this super hardcore fighter so Foggy’s a little lost on what can actually hold him _down_.

The point is, Matt may have been the one who got the ball rolling. 

But now Foggy’s the one in charge.

He runs a hand up the space over Matt’s thigh again. Not touching, because he’s barely touched him at _all_ since they began. Keeping this thin barrier of air between them at all times, letting Matt feel the breeze of his movements, the buffer of heated air and the hotter skin just out of reach. 

Matt’s head flops to the side, breath stuttering _hard_ like Foggy’s raked fingernails over his flesh instead.

He’s lost track of time, doesn’t know how long they’ve been like this, only knows that Matt’s grown more and more responsive the longer Foggy’s hands have moved just shy of his skin. Matt’s usually pretty intense during sex as it is but this, well, this is something else.

This is _helplessness_ , walls come down and barriers smashed through. Foggy’s never seen Matt look this vulnerable, so caught up in everything he hears and smells and tastes and feels.

It’s fucking _hypnotic_ , watching the way Matt reacts to everything so vividly, to the slide of the sheets beneath him and the movement of the air when Foggy shifts his weight between his knees and the minuscule drop in temperature when either of them holds their breath. Tiniest changes that make Matt shake like he’s being _mauled_ , and a part of Foggy wants to do just that. Fuck going slow, he wants to get his hands on Matt _now_ , but there’s an even bigger part of him wants to play this out.

An even bigger part of him that’s enjoying watching Matt lose his _mind_.

Matt’s flushed so damn red, under the stubble at his jaw, down the taut tendons of his neck, over the muscles of his chest. Cock flushed darkest of all, heavy and thick as it curves back towards his stomach. Wet at the tip, and Foggy watches as a bead of pre-come forms at the slit, hearing the wrecked little noise Matt makes in the back of his throat. 

Leaning down to exhale lightly over Matt’s balls, not too close but still close enough that Matt _wails_. Trying to buck up into it, but his body’s stretched out too much for him to get the leverage. 

Matt’s eyes are tracking quickly, over the ceiling, over Foggy’s face, and Foggy isn’t even sure if he’s seeing flames or doing it because it’s one of the few forms of movement he’s freely allowed right now. His eyelashes are clumped together, damp and dark, moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes. 

Foggy’s finger drags over the air above Matt’s cock, careful to keep out of reach as it pulses.

“Foggy.” Whispered through a scratchy throat. “Please, Foggy, I -” He pauses, teeth digging into his bottom lip as it starts to tremble. “ _Touch_ me, I can’t -”

“No,” Foggy interrupts, quiet but firm. Sucking in a breath as the bead of pre-come grows fuller, starts to roll over the curved head of Matt’s cock, and the noise Matt makes is _inhuman_. Shaking desperately as the hot moisture rolls slowly over sensitised skin, and fuck, that was a _sob_. Foggy’s gaze snaps up to Matt’s face, to the tears trailing down into his hair, teeth still digging crescents into his lip.

God, he looks so _beautiful_ like this.

“No, I won’t touch you,” Foggy murmurs again, and Matt inhales quickly, twice in succession. This was the deal, after all, this is what Matt _wanted_. “You don’t need it, do you?”

Another wrecked noise, and Matt’s trembling so bad now that Foggy almost starts to _worry_ , but there’s no carefully thought-out safeword on his lips, and Foggy’s already lost again to the sight of Matt’s cock twitching harder still.

“You don’t need me to touch you,” he whispers, and Matt’s whine is so damn _distressed_ it makes his heartbeat trip over itself. There’s more pre-come welling at the slit, almost constant now. “God, can you _smell_ yourself?”

Matt jerks so hard something in the bed frame cracks. 

Which seems like a pretty obvious _yes_.

Matt flinches at the sound, but the movement only ends up making him whimper more needily, body trying to writhe over the mattress. Foggy has to fight the urge to soothe him.

“You can, huh?” he says instead, breathless. “Smell how wet you’re getting. Can you _taste_ it?”

Another sob, and Matt’s crying in _earnest_ now. Chest wracked with it as he struggles and fails to get his breathing under control, muscles across his arms and legs and stomach tensing and releasing at random.

“Can you _come_ for me, just like this?” Foggy hisses, hands bracing against the bed. Leaning down so he’s breathing over the head of Matt’s cock, and the ends of his hair brushes over Matt’s hip, so light it’s barely a touch at all, but Matt _screams_ for it. Another crack from the bed frame as Matt arches, but this time Foggy’s not sure he even hears it. Whole body pulled tight as his cock pulses, coming all over himself, catching Foggy on the chin with it, and Foggy may not have Matt’s heightened senses but even _he_ can smell the scent of sex radiating off Matt’s body.

He watches Matt shake through it, keening louder with every slap of come against his stomach, and Foggy only realises he’s holding his breath when it registers that Matt isn’t relaxing at all, isn’t sinking back against the sheets. He’s still drawn taut with tension, even though his cock’s twitching dry now, no more come left to spill, and Foggy jerks into action, only fumbling a little as he moves swiftly around the bed, cutting the ropes where they loop around the wood.

As soon as he’s free, Matt’s whining, rolling on to his side, knees pulled up tight against his body. Letting out this noise like an injured _animal_ when Foggy curls over his back, but he lies still as Foggy presses his lips to Matt’s neck, as his hands run over his body. Touching him everywhere he can reach, just like Matt told him to before they started, just like he explained he’d need.

Firm touch to ground him back in his body, and Foggy focuses on skin, on rubbing sweat into Matt’s arms and come into his stomach and chest, fingers sticky and slick, and resolutely ignoring how his own cock is hard and _aching_ , pressed against the small of Matt’s back.

Stroking him and murmuring nonsense, reassurance and praise, and bit by bit Matt settles against him, tension bleeding out of him, hurt little noises growing into something softer, something content. 

His eyes are still leaking when Foggy props himself up on one elbow to check Matt’s face, but there’s also the start of a smile on his lips.

“Well?” Matt asks him, voice croaky.

Foggy snorts quietly. “I feel like I should be asking _you_ that.” Matt finds one of Foggy’s hands over his stomach, laces their fingers together, and Foggy sighs and kisses Matt’s neck. His skin is still hot. “Was it what you wanted?”

The smile grows wider. “Definitely.”

Good. 

Foggy grins, presses his mouth to Matt’s shoulder so he can feel it. “You’ll want to try it again, then? The whole ‘sensory overload’ thing?”

“ _Definitely_ ,” Matt agrees, squeezing Foggy’s hand tighter.

Even better. 

He can’t hear Matt’s heartbeat, but he can feel it like this, feel it through Matt’s back, steadying into something more normal. 

Then into something slower still.

“Hey, you better not be falling asleep,” he grumbles, which gets him a laugh and, oh, Matt grinding back against him, firm movement of skin dragging over Foggy’s trapped cock. To be honest, Foggy’s not sure either of them is gonna be up for much more than a handjob and a whole lot of cuddling tonight. But next time?

Next time it’s _Foggy’s_ turn to live a fantasy, and he’s got a whole _bunch_ of ideas.


End file.
